


Tee-Vee

by pendragonfics



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Early Mornings, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Slice of Life, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-28 05:11:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18749689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendragonfics/pseuds/pendragonfics
Summary: ...life just went on as before, just, without a television...





	Tee-Vee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zebracakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebracakes/gifts).



> I haven't had requests for what feels like a billion years, so I asked my good buddy ol' pal Anjel what kind of fluff she'd like, and, thanks to a long train ride, got it written fairly quickly! Hope you like it!!

Ever since the television stopped working, neither you, nor Loki rushed to fix it. In fact, it simply sat on the mantle, untouched. If any of your work friends heard that your home was one without the six o’clock news, or the buzz of _Golden Girls_ reruns on the free to air, they would make a fuss of it. But in the apartment, life just went on as before, just, without a television.

Like right now, there was no monotone electric jabber in the back of your mind. Just the sounds of the city outside the apartment that managed to penetrate the walls of the complex. Mornings were never your thing, and neither were Mondays. Both put together meant for an additional allotted fifteen minutes to wake up properly.

To be honest, you didn’t miss the television. It made for more connection with your boyfriend, and with a man as complex as him, it led to interesting consequences.

“More coffee, darling?” the voice of your boyfriend asks.

You frown, looking to where his voice comes from. Your eyes are still touched by sleep in the corners, and everything seems to be out of focus, or like you’re from another dimension, peeking into this one. He’s wearing the pyjamas you both picked out from the store; green and gold plaid pants, and a shirt you’d found that read, ‘ _Heir of Slytherin_ ’ in cursive.

“Huh?” you wince. Focusing, you realise what he said, and offer up your near-empty cup to him. “What would I do without you, Lo?” you wipe a hand over your face, giving him a small smile.

From the other side of the apartment, Loki places your cup under the coffee machine. He presses the buttons in the order for his significant other to have the beverage they want, and cross over, placing it before them. Loki takes a deep breath, and sitting opposite you, beams at you with a cheeky delight that you were proud that you were the sole receiver of.

“You’re lucky that I am devoted to you,” Loki says, words almost taunting. “In all my years living on Asgard, I would never have served another.”

You blow on the cup, wafting the scent toward his nose. “I love you too, _silver-tongue_.”

He shakes his head at that, the mess of his sleep-tousled hair cascading into his eyes. Over your coffee, you reach over, pushing it behind his ears. But not before you run your hand through it properly, feeling the length between your fingers.

“It’s getting long,” you comment.

“I suppose it is.”

“I’m no hairdresser, but I did give Poppy-May Woodward bangs in eighth grade.” You say, and taking in a mouthful of coffee, you add, “Unless you’re particularly attached to the length -,”

He stood up rather suddenly. “It is _attached_ to me. And I won’t cut it. Not yet.” He says, moving away. You watch as he walks; it’s not like the gait of anyone else that you know of. He walks like a model off the runway, or a big cat. The apartment isn’t as large as anyone else on Stark’s payroll, but it’s large enough so that by moving from the table to the couch, there’s a distance between you and your boyfriend. The couch faces the television, inert on the wall, and he says nothing, staring at the wall behind the dead screen. “Why are you fascinated with my hair?” he asks.

“Why aren’t you?” you reply, wistful, “If you grow that long enough, I’m sure if you donated that to sick kids or someone they’d worship at your feet.” You mumble the last bit; that could easily get to his head. “Darn your stupid Asgardian hair that looks like an eternal shampoo commercial.”

“ _Careful_ ,” He grins, turning to face you. “Our children would be blessed to have such hair, darling.”

You blink, almost spitting your mouthful back into the cup. “Kids?” you gape.

He slides his body to face you, lithe, like the snake he often transmogrifies into. “Your reaction is like one of those people in the once-working tee-vee,” Loki smirks, and if you weren’t so shocked by his previous words, you’d perhaps jump him like a rabid rabbit, ~~except you both had to go to work and it wouldn’t work with the schedule~~ \- “Are you offended by the idea of procreating, with me?”

You laugh off his words. “Offended? No. You’re basically sex on legs. I sometimes marvel why you’re into me, despite you claiming I’m -,”

“As ravishing and breathtaking as a transcendental celestial body,” he interrupts.

“- Yeah, that. I’m into negotiating parenthood with you, someday. It’s more…the delivery of your proposal.” You bite your lip at the wording, “Like, I’m into you. So bad. But it’s like,” you glance to the clock on the wall, “quarter to eight in the morning, on a Monday, of all times, and it caught me off guard.” Downing the rest of your coffee despite the heat of it, you cross the room to Loki. You stare at one another for a beat, and, sliding into his side on the couch, you feel as if your heartbeats are melding into one.

“I don’t want to work today,” Loki says, his face pressed into the side of your head, muffled. “Let’s stay here.”

You shake your head. “What, are you crazy? We have the best job in the world.”

“As Avengers, or models for plastic children’s figurines?” he retorts.

You push yourself from the couch and go to clean the cup left on the table. “Both, _duh_. And because we do that, we get all sorts of perks. Living in this nice place, doing some good for the world -,” you shake your head, amused that your chaotic neutral boyfriend still found it entertaining to get a rise from you about being a _superhero_. “and the pay, the pay is good.”

“So, we do have enough money to fix that thing?” Loki gestures to the television. It does look quite dejected, starting to get dusty where it’s perched. “It isn’t a postmodern art installation in our living room?”

“Very funny,” you roll your eyes. “Well, I was going to fix it, but it’s nice not having it. More time for reading, the radio, other little things - I just, don’t think we should get a new one.”

“I agree,” Loki says, “but let’s keep it mounted where it is. It’s like a trophy of a slayed beast.”

You shake your head, moving to continue getting on with the day. Just ten more minutes, and Loki and you had to leave for the commute to get you on time for the day’s briefing. “Okay, because then it’ll truly be a postmodern art installation.”

**Author's Note:**

> >  
>> 
>> I know there was talk of Loki & Reader procreating, but, picture this, my gender diverse readership: Loki can change his body. He's been Lady Loki, Loki, and a...horse? In the occasion for any future babies, I'm sure he'd shapeshift his body to take the pregnancy if your assigned at birth body couldn't physically do it.   
> 
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr on as @chaotic--lovely, and if you want to request a fic, check out [@pendragonfics](https://pendragonfics.tumblr.com/request_conditions)! ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ✿


End file.
